Page 83 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“What happened, Dad? Why did you and Mom split up?”
He sighs wearily. “We were just too different people.”
I shake my head. “No. That’s not good enough. My whole life, Mom has been angry at me. Angry every time I leave town. Every time I travel to see you. She has resented me. And I’ve blamed Silver Creek and her ties to a place that was too small for the lifeyou wanted. I decided it was too small for the life I wanted too. But now I’m wondering if there’s more to the story.”
Dad presses his fingers into his eyes for a long moment before finally bringing his gaze back to me. “Your mother was not angry at you for leaving. She’s angry because yougotto leave when she didn’t.”
Something shifts in my brain as information tumbles and realigns. “What do you mean?” I need time to catch up, to process what Dad is telling me.
He leans his elbows on the table, a gravity to his expression that says he’s about to tell me something he’s never told me before. He gives his head a little shake, a sadness passing over his face that makes my heart lurch. “We were living in Atlanta when you were born.”
I nod. I know this much, at least.
“About the time I got the promotion that took me to Paris, your grandfather got sick. Sick enough that your Grandma Nora couldn’t take care of him on her own. So instead of moving to Paris, all three of us, like we originally planned, we moved to Silver Creek. Bought a house a few doors down from your grandparents. Blue, with white shutters.”
A wave of shock rolls through me. That explains the photos of me as a baby on Brody’s front porch. Ilivedin Brody’s house when I was a baby.
I can’t spend time on how weirdly coincidental it is because I’m too hung up on what Dad is telling me. In my head, Mom alwaysleftDad so she could live in Silver Creek. Dad living there too doesn’t fit.
“Why don’t I know this? Why hasn’t Mom ever told me?”
There is a heavy sadness in Dad’s eyes, and he stares into his empty coffee cup for a long time before he finally answers. “It wasn’t a happy time for your mother, Kate. I still took the job inParis. I didn’t prioritize our family like I should have, and your mother is the one who suffered for it.”
Talk about having the rug pulled out from under me. I just had the whole floor pulled away. I’m standing on rocky soil, the foundation of everything I ever believed about my parents’ marriage reduced to rubble around me.
“We did try to make it work,” Dad continues. “But traveling back and forth—it was hard on us. I started staying in Paris more and more, and then I . . .” He meets my gaze and breathes out a sigh. “I met someone. A woman. She’s the reason your mother and I are divorced.”
My skin flushes hot then cold, and a sheen of sweat breaks out across my upper lip. “You cheated on Mom?”
He closes his eyes, his jaw clenched, and slowly nods. “It was only once, and I immediately told your mother what happened. We’d been growing apart for so long, she didn’t even act surprised. We decided together that ending things was the best thing for us both.”
I don’t have words. Anger, hot and thick, coils in my gut, but it is dampened by a profound sadness for my mom. She gave up so much. And for what?
Except so many things still don’t make any sense. Mom really did seem to love Silver Creek. And I didn’t imagine all the times she dogged on my love of traveling, though come to think of it, it was always in the context of the traveling I didwith Dad.Knowing what I know now definitely frames things in a different light. Especially when I remember how many times I told her I wished she were more like Dad, how much I wanted to live withhimfull time instead of her.
“I should have told you,” Dad says simply. “It was so long ago, I guess I thought it didn’t matter. But I see now that it does.”
I sniff, at least appreciating that he’s willing to acknowledge it. “Why didn’tshetell me?”
“Why did she move home to take care of her parents?” Dad asks. “She’s been putting other people before herself her whole life, Kate. It’s what she does. She put your relationship with me—yourfeelingsabout me—above everything else.”
Understanding settles in my gut with uncomfortable certainty. Mom sacrificed her own comfort to take care of her parents, and she did the same thing so I could have a positive relationship with my dad. She couldn’t stop herself from being bitter about it though, and that’s what leaked over onto me. Her disappointment. Herhurt.
It’s not a wonder she moved to Florida right after Grandma died. It was the first time she’d ever been free to make a choice that only impacted herself.
“Say something, Katie,” Dad says. “I know it was a long time ago, but I’m still sorry for what I did. For how it impacted you and your mother both.”
A sudden desire to call Mom swells inside my heart like an expanding balloon. Which is saying something because most of the time, I avoid talking to my mother like I avoid center seats on airplanes. But this? This changes things. I’m not naïve enough to think it will changeeverything. But I do owe her an apology.
I study Dad closely, noting the deep creases around his eyes. His irises are a watery blue, a few shades lighter than mine. In the dim light of the restaurant, they almost look translucent. Colorless. “Dad, would you do anything differently if you could?”
He takes a long, slow breath. “I was never meant for settling down, Kate. It’s not me. You understand what that’s like.”
Suddenly, all I can think about is what Dad missed. I loved all our traveling together. But he wasn’t around when I learned how to ride my bike. He wasn’t there to teach me how to tie my shoes or take pictures of my junior prom. He missed every single one of my birthdays.
Idounderstand what his life is like because it’s beenmylife for the last ten years.
And I don’t want it anymore.
